


Tell Me A Secret (AKA The Necklace)

by MoreThanOneInterest



Category: Life with Derek
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29317305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoreThanOneInterest/pseuds/MoreThanOneInterest
Summary: It's always been a mystery to her. And she's always wanted to ask about it, but whenever an opportunity would arise, she would chicken out. Because what if she didn't like the answer?The one where Casey is intrigued by Derek's necklace, and needs lots of answers. And he needs answers, too.
Relationships: Casey McDonald & Derek Venturi, Casey McDonald/Derek Venturi
Comments: 21
Kudos: 54





	Tell Me A Secret (AKA The Necklace)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking some obvious creative liberties, and it pertains to Derek's necklace that he wears (almost religiously). I am fully aware that it does not make an appearance until the later seasons (I think he starts wearing it in S3 - maybe late S2??? - but I might be wrong about that), but we've gotta compromise here and pretend it's just always been around, since the beginning. Oh, and it's not just a decorative ring, if you catch my drift. (You'll understand). 
> 
> This started small, and then grew. Scenes just started appearing. Hence the secondary title :)
> 
> Sorry for the long note. Without further ado:
> 
> I do not own Life With Derek, nor any of the characters affiliated.

It'salways been a mystery to her. And she's always wanted to ask about it, but whenever an opportunity would arise, she would chicken out. Because what if she didn't like the answer?

Honestly, she wanted the explanation to be sweet and curt, like, "My mom gave it to me before she left," or "Sam has a matching one. Stop laughing, we were twelve when we got them."

But what if the answer was disappointing? "I found it," or "An old girlfriend gave it to me as a gift."

That would take all the fun out of the wondering and imagination that she often found herself lacing it with. 

Sometimes she imagined he had gotten it at a flea market before their parents ever met. Other times, she wondered if he just thought it was cool and wore it as a fashion statement. But then again, if it was just about fashion, he would probably take it off more often than not. 

No, this thing never came off him. She rarely ever saw him without it, and she was starting to think he even slept with it on. 

It was at dinner one night when she found herself staring at the ring dangling in front of his chest, almost mesmerized by the gentle swaying motion as he talked and gestured animatedly with the family. It was so plain. So simple. So Derek. A plain cord around his neck with a plain, silver ring. It was barely an inch in diameter. Not even close. 

For the first time, as she was staring at it intently, she realized it possibly was more than just a decoration... It was a ring, for a finger. 

It was the perfect size. Sure, it was a little unconventional, but the more she examined it, the more she thought how perfect it would fit on one of his fingers. It was definitely too big for a female hand. It had to be for a man. 

"What's wrong with you?"

It was almost like whoever had asked the question was underwater. She barely even recognized the voice was addressing her until Lizzie tapped her on the forearm. 

Casey blinked twice and her vision cleared. How long had everyone been looking at her? She felt her throat begin to swell at the embarrassing amount of attention everyone was giving her.

"Uh, what?" She managed to mumble, hoping no one realized she had been staring directly - and intensely - at Derek's chest across from her. 

It was Derek who repeated himself. "Why are you staring at me?" 

Damn, if they hadn't noticed before, now they definitely did. 

Casey cleared her throat and shrugged. "I guess I just zoned out."

And she supposed that was a pretty good answer, because he rolled his eyes, shifted mechanically, and adjusted the watch on his wrist. "I swear you're getting more Spacey by the minute."

Even though it was enough for Derek to move on, Nora stretched out an arm toward Casey and patted her daughter's hand. "You okay, sweetie?" Her voice was full of concern. 

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"It's not like you to zone out."

"I guess I'm just tired."

"Have you been sleeping okay?"

"Yeah. Just fine."

No one seemed to give it anymore thought, and Casey decidedly kept her gaze averted from the boy sitting in front of her until the meal was over, and then excused herself to her room to study.

"Maybe you should go to bed early," Nora suggested as Casey climbed the stairs. "I don't want you to be overtired tomorrow."

Casey didn't respond, and locked herself in her room for the rest of the night. 

........

It bugged her for weeks. Every day at dinner, she had to stop herself from looking at Derek lower than his chin, otherwise her eyes would immediately lock onto his necklace and stare at it, intrigued. Why did she even care? It didn't matter to her for four years previously. Why was she interested, all of a sudden?

It was after dinner on a Thursday when it was Casey's turn to do the dishes, and Derek came sauntering into the kitchen, intent on starting a conversation. 

She eyed him warily as he stopped at the island, his hands resting on the counter top. 

"What?" she said as she glanced at him, and proceeded to put away a final stack of dinner plates, and then started piling glasses into another cupboard. 

Derek stared at her, his eyebrows furling low over his eyes. "What's been with you?"

She grimaced. "What are you talking about?"

"You barely look at me anymore. And when you do, you're always concentrating on my shirt."

"I'm not concentrating on your shirt."

"Then what?"

She sighed. "It's that damn necklace."

She watched as his eyebrows lifted, in a weird sort of shocked, yet amused expression. And then, like he found it all too interesting, he smirked and clarified, " _this_ necklace?" and fingered it lightly. 

It bugged her that he never noticed she was intrigued by its existence before. "Yeah."

"Okay, why do you keep staring at my necklace?" he inquired, and slid onto a stool, and rested his head on a fist, propping up on his elbows. 

She refused to look at him, and finished her task. "I don't know. I just don't get it."

"You don't get it? Wow. Um, okay. A necklace is something that you wear around your neck. Sometimes it's for looks, but it can be sentimental, or a statement-"

"God, you're annoying."

"But that's sort of my job, isn't it?" His smirk made her want to punch him.

"I meant, I don't understand why you wear it. What's it from?"

His eyes narrowed so slightly that Casey would have missed the occurrence if she hadn't been looking directly at his eyes as she stopped at the counter and folded up her dish towel. 

"Why do you care?"

And she exhaled angrily. "I don't know. It just bugs me."

"Why?"

"It's annoying."

Derek looked genuinely surprised when she said that, and his finger tapped disingenuously against his chin. "Why would you be annoyed by my necklace?"

She huffed and tossed her towel aside and placed her hands firmly on her hips. "That's the thing. I don't know why I'm annoyed at it. And I'm annoyed that I don't know why I'm annoyed. And I'm even more annoyed that I can't figure it out."

His eyebrows lifted, and he leaned backward a little bit. "Okay, I'm not in the mood for one of your freak-outs, so I'm gonna go."

And he slipped off the stool and raced out of the kitchen faster than Casey could even respond. 

It was the truth. It was all so annoying. But she was mostly annoyed that it was something she knew nothing about - something about Derek that confused her. And it was something she couldn't find the answer to by herself. If she ever wanted to know about the story behind that necklace - and the ring on it - she would need to ask him directly. 

And she doubted he would tell her, just to spite her. 

.......

She was sitting on her bed, going through an old Venturi family album, studying the pictures closely. She had dug the photo book out of the window seat in the living room the day before and stashed it under her mattress so no one knew she had taken it. 

For some reason, she had never looked in it before. It wasn't a rule or anything, but she had never been too curious about what the Venturis were like before the big merger. Especially since there were a lot of pictures of George's first wife in the thing, and even though Casey understood that they had been one, big happy family once upon a time, it was hard for her to imagine George with anyone else but her mother. And she knew that type of thinking was immature and selfish, because even though she couldn't imagine her mother with anyone else but George now, she also had a vivid memory of her mother and her father, back when the McDonalds were complete. But that had been years ago, and intangible now. 

But Casey wasn't poking her nose in the album to look at Abby. She was looking at every picture, searching for Derek, and then looking at his neck. She was determined to figure out just when he had begun wearing the necklace, and trying to deduce where it was from. 

It was no use, because the book ended when Marti was barely a toddler, and Derek was only about eleven or twelve in the pictures, and - alas - no black cord and silver ring. 

Her next source was Emily, and she waited until the two of them were locked in Casey's room the next evening, sorting through Casey's closet before she brought it up. 

"Do you know anything about Derek's necklace?" Casey stated, like it was a passing thought, and it was nothing important or of concern. 

But Emily knew her too well, and caught on to the subtle burning desire to know everything in her voice. "His necklace?"

Casey nodded, dropping a pair of old jeans in her 'donate' pile on the floor. "Yeah."

"You mean the black leather cord with the silver ring?"

And Casey nodded, eager, and happy that her best friend knew exactly what she was talking about. "Yes."

Emily shrugged, and picked up one of Casey's sweaters and held it in front of her body, looking in the mirror. "I don't know anything about it."

Casey's heart completely dropped, and her shoulders sagged relentlessly as she sighed. "Oh."

Emily spun around and asked, "can I have this?" as she pulled the sweater on and adjusted it around her bust. 

Slumping backward on her bed, Casey sighed. "Sure." She didn't care. She had too many clothes anyway, and one less sweater meant one less thing she had to pack for university. 

Emily smiled proudly and twirled in front of the mirror, trying to look at herself from every angle. "Thanks."

Falling backward, until she was lying flat on her back over the pile of clothes on her bed, she eyed Emily suspiciously. "Do you know when he started wearing it?"

Like she barely cared, Emily shrugged and rifled through the clothes Casey was donating. "Um..." Her voice trailed off, and then she stood, trying to recollect. "I can't be sure, off the top of my head." That wasn't good enough for Casey. Other than herself, Emily was the foremost expert on everything Derek Venturi. If she didn't know, no one would. Well, except for the boy in the next room, of course.

"Come on. You've got to remember."

Biting her lip, Emily stood still and closed her eyes, like she was travelling back in time in her mind. "He didn't have it in junior high... Or grade nine..." Her head tilted, and she brought a hand to her chin. "But he did have it when I went out with him in sophomore year."

Casey sat up. "The time he took you to Smelly Nellie's to get back at me for dating Sam?"

Emily nodded. "Yeah."

Casey was honestly very surprised that Emily was being so cool about the conversation. Ever since Emily and Derek had broken up - a little less than a month before - Casey made a point not to bring him up in any conversation. But it had proved to be an extreme challenge, since he was such a big part of her life. 

"Did he have it before then?" she asked, trying not to sound too excited. 

Sighing, Emily narrowed her eyes at Casey. "What's so interesting about his necklace?"

Pressing her lips tightly together, Casey shrugged emphatically. "I just need to know."

"Is it important?"

"No, but I'm interested, y'know?"

Rolling her eyes, Emily took off the sweater she had claimed, and placed it on top of her purse, so she wouldn't forget it later on. "No. I don't know."

Casey stared at her. "I know it makes no sense. I just can't stop thinking about it."

"And why is that?"

Casey's breathing steadied. "Because it's a mystery to me. Em, you know me. You know how much I hate not knowing something. And I hate not knowing about him."

Biting her lip, Emily tapped her foot a few times, and then let out an exasperated burst of air. "Okay. He started wearing it when your families blended."

And Casey smiled, standing up. "Really?"

Emily nodded. "Yeah."

Going over to her desk, Casey sat down and opened up her own photograph album: the McDonald-Venturi one she had started putting together by herself over four years ago. The first picture was a portrait of the family at their parents' wedding. It wasn't evident if he had been wearing it in that photograph, but when she flipped the page, there it was, happily perched on his chest, taunting her imagination. 

"And before you ask, no, I don't know why he started wearing it, or how he got it," Emily added, and tried on another one of Casey's sweaters. 

Nodding, Casey slammed the book shut and spun around in her seat. "That's okay."

Emily turned and looked at Casey, her eyebrows lifted in expectation as she modelled another one of Casey's sweaters.

Casey laughed and rolled her eyes. "Sure, you can have that one, too," she said, and continued purging her closet. 

........

"You sure you're okay?" Nora asked, taking Casey in her arms and holding her close to her chest. 

Casey tried nodding against her mother's embrace, but found that she was being held too tightly to actually move. "I'm going to be just fine, Mom," she assured, wedging her hands between them to make space to breathe. "Really."

That didn't stop either of them from tearing up - especially Nora. 

Nora shook her head and tried for a sweet smile, although it came off as more of a sad grimace. "I swore I wasn't going to cry," she admitted, wiping some of her tears. 

Casey nodded in agreement. "I wasn't going to, either."

They both jumped when George's hands reached out to them, one arm going around both of them, respectively. "I'm sure Casey is going to be great," he tried interjecting. "And we're so proud of you," he finished, turning his attention to Casey. 

"Very proud," Nora agreed. "Now," she said, the tone of her voice changing to something more civilized. "Whenever you get lonely, you call. Even if it's the middle of the night. And don't be scared if you need help. Make lots of friends, and Casey?" She held her daughter at arms length to get a good look at her. "Don't lock yourself up. Have some fun. It's college, after all."

Casey sighed. What did that even mean, exactly? "I won't mom," she responded, and when both George and Nora raised curious eyebrows - because it rather sounded as if she had just refused to have any fun - Casey clarified, "I won't lock myself up. I'll have fun."

"Not too much," Nora declared. "And I know this is a touchy subject, but Derek's always around, too. I know you're probably planning on avoiding each other like the plague, but if you really need help, I'm sure he'll be there."

Casey almost snorted.

George nodded. "I gave him a good talking to." His eyes narrowed. "He won't turn you away. He's not allowed."

Casey smiled, although she doubted Derek would listen to a thing their parents said once he was living all alone on campus. She even doubted he would help her out in any way. It wasn't his nature to be generous - especially to Casey.

"I think I'll manage on my own."

And after literal years of hugging and crying and threats of "we should be going now", her parents were finally gone, and she was all alone.

The room was quiet. She looked around at all her things. The place was in a state of pre-decoration. Her things were mostly set up; they just needed a good rearrangement until she happened upon the nicest aesthetic for College Casey. Something neat, clean, and totally sophisticated.

She was determined to be sophisticated if it killed her. 

She was leaving behind Crazed Casey back in London. This was a whole new her. 

........

It wasn't working. Sure, it had only been a few days, but she didn't feel right. Her new decor wasn't even making her feel better, and she knew it was a different sort of emptiness inside of her. She was missing something, and she didn't even have to try and figure out what it was. 

She knew exactly what she was missing. 

She doubted he missed her, though. 

........

When classes started the next week, she made a friend. And she didn't even have to try very hard.

Her name was Hannah, and she was way cooler than Casey wanted to admit. They were partnered up in Biology 1000 as lab partners, and apparently were both in the market for new best friends. Not that Emily had been demoted. Casey just needed a new college best friend - someone she could meet again in ten years and laugh their guts out over the stupid parties they used to attend as 'independent women'. 

At first, her friendship really helped to fill the void. They went out together almost every night. Casey even went to her first club with Hannah, and even though they had both dressed modestly for their first experience, the bouncer had picked them out of the crowd and given them entry. It was a moment that made Casey feel good. It made her feel accepted. She was on her own, and people noticed her. 

It felt very right, living on her own.

Until it didn't. 

.........

Her dorm was quiet. Too quiet. It made her head pound, just listening to the deafening 'tick' resonating off the walls from her new decorative wall clock above her desk. 

Casey hated to admit it, but she missed the loud, boisterous atmosphere that her home back in London constantly provided, free of charge. Now, living on her own, there was no one around - no sounds or people moving around the house. No laughter, no talking. Just her and her clock. 

No matter how she decided to fill her time, it never felt like enough. It wasn't satisfying.

She stared at her desk, waiting for the urge to study to wave over her, like it usually did on a school night. But the longer she sat upright on her bed, clutching her pillow, the longer she felt more alone than ever. 

It was the second week of classes. And, although she had appreciated the peace for the first few days, she was getting homesick for a good family dinner and unpredictable fight. With anyone. Preferably Derek. But he had only visited once in the last fourteen days, and he only showed up because their parents had mixed up a few of their boxes, and he was returning a box full of her trinkets in exchange for his CD collection. 

And the whole time, she kept glancing down at his necklace, even more intrigued than ever. 

She knew where his dorm was. She had helped her mother hang curtains there before the family left back to London. There was nothing stopping her from going over there and picking a fight for no reason. They tended to do that a lot at home, so why should she feel different about it here?

She felt _very_ different about it now, because it wasn't like they lived together anymore. It wasn't like she could just go over and yell at him to turn down his music, or get upset at him for pulling a prank on her. No, if she wanted to see him now, it had to be more intentional than that. She intentionally had to go over to be with him. She intentionally had to come up with a reason to see him and to spend time with him. And then who knows what her heart would do if he actually let her.

Casey bit her lip and looked up at her friend, the clock, and stared at the time. It was after ten o'clock. If she went over to Derek's place, there would be a good chance he wasn't there. Or he wasn't alone. And she didn't want to know if he was keeping company. She didn't want to know _anything_ about that side of his life. 

But the thought vaguely crossed her mind, and she wondered if he kept the necklace on while... entertaining. She felt terrible for letting the image make an appearance in her thoughts, and felt her heart quicken just thinking about it. 

Of course he would take it off. It would get in the way, wouldn't it? 

She didn't really know, since no one had ever _entertained_ her before. She just hadn't felt like it was the right time with anyone. She felt too young with Max, and she refused Truman when he asked, because she knew her relationship with him wouldn't last very long. So far, she was glad she was still a virgin. It made her feel more empowered. It was something she wasn't just going to give away, willy-nilly. 

And the thought of Derek, with that necklace, _entertaining_... It sent shivers down her back, and she couldn't tell if the chills were positive or negative. Her stomach twisted, and she rubbed her eyes, trying to forget about it.

She sat in silence for a few more minutes, until she couldn't take it anymore. With purpose, she hauled her body off of her bed, slipping on a pair of shoes. She didn't care that she was already wearing her pyjamas. She pulled on a hoodie and exited her room, locking it behind her. 

The walk to Derek's dorm house was barely five minutes. It was definitely more boisterous than hers. She had opted for a quiet, single-room-only, all-girl's residency, while Derek had insisted on a co-ed dorm. 

She made her way to his floor, passing by an open-door party on the second floor that shocked her in more ways than one. The things she saw appalled her, and her heart began racing again when she wondered if Derek participated in any of those crude activities she had just witnessed. 

Probably, seeing that he chose to live there. 

She was glad the fourth floor was relatively quiet, but she could still vaguely hear the pounding bass of music rising up through the floor. 

He answered his door almost immediately when she knocked, and the moment she laid eyes on him, she could feel her entire body shiver. 

She had no clue just seeing him would have this effect on her. She knew she had been homesick, but she didn't know she had been this forlorn. 

Obviously, she didn't hide what she was feeling very well, because his eyebrows curled worriedly, and as he leaned against his arm, propped against his door frame, he said, "Casey? What's wrong?"

And she began to cry. 

She expected him to shy away, and shut his door in fear of getting involved with her emotions, but was shocked when he put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her into his room, and closed the door behind them. 

Gently, he led her to his couch, and sat her down, standing in front of her with his hands awkwardly digging into his pockets. 

Casey sniffled, and looked up at him. "I miss home."

And he nodded, like that was all the explanation he needed for a sobbing-Casey to show up at his doorstep at ten-thirty at night. 

Slowly, he lowered, and he sat beside her, leaving plenty of space between their bodies. The gesture was so uncharacteristic of him that Casey almost wanted to cry even harder. He wasn't running from her tears, like she expected him to. He was just _there_ \- present, and beside her.

Neither of them said a thing for a few minutes, and Casey appreciated it. She just needed company for the time being. And Derek just sat back and waited patiently. Patience and Derek. Those were two things that she had never expected to mesh together. But here he was, sitting quietly, and sweetly offering her a box full of tissues. 

"Thanks," she stammered, and blew her nose. "Sorry. I just-"

"Don't be sorry," he countered, and leaned backward, sinking into a cushion. 

Nodding, she smiled weakly, and looked at him. "Are _you_ homesick?"

Like the steely, emotionless creature that he was, Derek shook his head and scoffed. "Me? Homesick for the _most_ obnoxious house on the planet? No way."

And she chuckled. "You totally are."

When he didn't respond, but kept up eye contact, she knew she was right. Derek was homesick, just like her. He did have feelings, after all. She had suspected that for a while now. 

"So," he continued, looking around, with teeth biting down on his bottom lip. "How long do you think you're gonna be wallowing in self pity on my couch?"

And there it was. Insensitive Derek taking control. 

She sighed. "I won't take up any more of your time," she answered, and stood up. 

He groaned, and shook his head. "No. Sorry... I didn't mean you needed to go right away."

"No. I understand. You don't want me around." She made a move toward the door, but he shot up quickly, and skipped around her, blocking her exit.

"No, Casey, it's okay. You can stay." Did he... Did he want her company, after all?

And that's when she finally looked at his chest, and she saw his necklace again. How could she have forgotten about it before?

Derek seemed to notice that she was looking at it, and she understood he was feeling a little self-conscious about it. Swiftly, he took it in his hand, and tucked it underneath the collar of his t-shirt, hiding it from view. 

She huffed. "Why are you hiding it?" She asked, a little ticked, because he knew she was interested in it.

He pretended not to care too much. "No reason."

She stepped backward, giving him some space. "Why do you wear it?"

She could feel a wall suddenly being built between them, like it usually did whenever she wanted to have a serious conversation with him. His shoulders lifted, and he stepped away from the door. He didn't answer her question, and then sat himself back down on the couch, and picked up a magazine from a pile beside him. 

Sitting down beside him, Casey watched him. She could tell he wasn't actually reading the glossy. He was just avoiding the conversation. 

"I won't tell anyone," she reassured, and inched closer, pulling a pillow into her chest. 

His eyes glanced upward at her, and one eyebrow lifted in curiosity. "Why does it annoy you so much? Not knowing?"

She let out a breath, realizing she hadn't been breathing very deeply for the past few moments. "Because it's a part of you that I don't know about."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Casey."

"Like what?"

"I'm not telling."

"I'll tell you what. I'll tell you a secret if you tell me the story behind the necklace."

She saw evident intrigue in his eyes at that statement and the way he smirked confirmed that he was interested in the offer. 

"One time deal," she added.

"What kind of secret?" He asked, closing the magazine in his hand, and discarding it to the side.

She shrugged. "What do you want to know?"

His eyes grew dim. "Promise you'll answer," he said flatly, with a menacing tone. 

A wary feeling grew in her stomach, but she nodded. "I promise. But you go first."

He blinked. "It's my dad's."

Confusion clouded her countenance as her eyes locked over him. "What?"

His hand lifted, and he brought the necklace back out of its hiding place, and held the ring in between his index finger and thumb. "The ring is my dad's."

"George?"

"How many dads do you remember me having?"

Her eyes rolled, out of her control. 

"H-he gave it to me the night before he married Nora."

And realization flooded Casey's mind. "It... It's his first wedding ring," she said, looking at it more closely.

Derek nodded. "Yeah."

That answer hadn't even crossed her mind, in all her wonderings about where it possibly could have come from. It was sweeter than anything she had ever been able to conjure in her mind, and she was not disappointed. 

"Derek," she breathed, and without any control over her body whatsoever, her arm stretched out, and she brushed her fingers over the memento, not even caring that she was resting her palm against his chest. "I had no idea." He was completely still under her touch, and when she finally realized what she was doing, her body stiffened, and she repealed her hand immediately. "Sorry," she squeaked. 

He seemed to start breathing again. "I wasn't happy... That night? I fought my dad. I didn't want him to get remarried. I thought it meant that his love - his love for my mom, and for us, for Ed and Marti and me - was gone."

Casey flinched. Did he still feel that way?

He looked down. "I was wrong. And he gave me this as a promise. A promise that no matter what happened, we'd still be a family."

It... It made Casey's heart melt, and she closed her eyes, trying to hide her emotions behind her compassion. _Of course_ , she thought. It was so evident... that's why he kept it so close to his heart. And she silently berated herself for never considering it before. Now that she knew, it just seemed so obvious.

She had barely had a heart-to-heart with Derek before. This feeling was so foreign to her that she didn't know how to respond correctly. "I don't know what to say," she admitted, and her eyes drifted upward from the necklace, to his eyes. 

He smirked. "I know what you can say," he offered. 

"What?"

"You can tell me how long you've wondered about it."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Is-is that the secret you want from me?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

That took her by surprise. She had half expected him to come up with something ludicrous - something that she would never admit to anybody. Something gross, or insanely personal. Something he could lord over for the rest of their lives. 

Not something so... So innocent. 

She inhaled. "I... I don't really know."

He squinted. "Are you just saying that?"

Quickly, her head shook vigorously. "No. I've just never _not_ noticed it."

"So you've always wondered?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

"Interesting." His expression was so difficult to read, and Casey huffed when he stared at her, like he knew something that she didn't. 

"What?" She asked, annoyed, and her arms crossed tightly, holding the pillow tight to her torso. 

His shoulders bobbed up and down. "Nothing."

"I can smell the burning rubber. You're thinking something. Spill."

His laugh sent a jolt of electricity down her spine. "What makes you think that?"

"That stupid, smug smile."

And he only deepened his expression. "Oh?"

"Tell me what you're thinking!" She demanded. 

Leaning toward her, Derek locked eyes with her. "...If you tell me another secret," he bargained, and licked his lips. 

_Whoa_. Casey looked down at his lips, and her head started to spin. All of a sudden, she couldn't breath. 

How could she be so annoyed, and so excited at the same time? It was a weird, sinking sensation in her gut, but it was pleasant. Like a roller coaster - one with a lot of loops and turns, because with Derek, she never knew when her heart would start falling for no reason.

"Okay, deal," she answered, with concern evident in her voice, as she looked back up at his eyes, hoping he didn't notice her rising tension and brief glance at his mouth. "What are you thinking?"

He leaned even closer to her, bringing a leg up onto the couch to face her, and his elbow resting against the top of the backrest. As he opened his mouth to answer, she could hear faint pounding. She wondered if it was the sound of her own heart beating loudly in her chest, or if the music at the orgy two floors down was getting louder. 

"I'm thinking that you've always noticed me."

She realized that the pounding had been her own heart, because it quickened. "What?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "You notice me."

She scrunched her nose. "Of course I have. It's kind of hard not to notice a big oaf who shared the same bathroom as me for four years."

She watched his eyes roll straight upward, and his head tilt back in irritation. "You know that's not what I mean."

" _Of course_ that's what you mean," she denied. Because what else could he be referring to?

"Okay, tell me this," Derek cut in, shifting his position to face her more pointedly. "How long have you been attracted to me?"

The pounding in her ears ceased, because her heart completely stopped. "What?" She wanted to shout at him that he was ridiculous, but she could barely lift her voice above a whisper. 

His gaze strengthened. "That's your next secret. How long have you been attracted to me?"

She couldn't tell how long she stayed there, completely motionless and utterly shocked. She only remembers seeing him shift slightly - closer to her - and her whole body unfroze at once, and she shot up from the couch, the pillow in her arms dropping limply to the floor. 

"I'm not attracted to you," she fought. 

He stood, too, and glared at her. "You're seriously trying to deny it?"

"I'm not denying anything! There's _nothing_ to deny. I'm not attracted to you!"

His arms crossed. "Is that so?" He didn't buy it. 

Rebutting, Casey glowered at him. "It is!" Neither of them seemed to buy it. "Are _you_ attracted to me?" she enquired, swallowing her pride. 

He didn't answer immediately. His head leaned backward slightly, and she watched as his eyes darted over her face, like he was trying to read her - like he was trying to figure out the answer she wanted to hear, not the one that was burning on both their tongues. "Of course not."

"Then why do you think _I_ would be attracted to _you_?"

Taking a step forward, Derek met her, nearly toe-to-toe. "Your eyes." As if for emphasis, he widened his own brown pools, and Casey could barely look away to regain her composure.

She snorted and hoped she didn't sound as obvious as she felt. "Please. My eyes?"

"It's the way you look at me."

"What about the way _you_ look at _me_?" She argued. 

He scowled. "I don't look at you like anything."

"Tell that to your face."

Silence fell between them, and Casey had a hard time keeping eye contact. There was no way she was going to let him win. 

"I..." Her voice was failing her, and so was her brain. She could feel his breath on her lips, and her eyes shut without her permission. "I'm _not_ attracted to you."

He didn't move away. He didn't even flinch. "I haven't been attracted to you since the first day I met you," he whispered, and Casey's entire body shivered when she felt his hand brush against her arm.

She couldn't make words form, much less answer him. Now his other hand was holding her other arm. He was oddly gentle.

"Tell me another secret?" he asked in a subdued voice, and she nodded involuntarily. "Do... Do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?"

_God Almighty_ , Casey screamed in her mind. She wanted to refuse. She wanted to rip herself away from him and run - run as fast as she could and never turn back. 

But the overwhelming want to stay - the _need_ to stay - was so strong, her whole body was aching. 

How had he managed to see right through her?

"Casey," he breathed, and she finally opened her eyes. His eyes were shut tight.

"Tell me a secret," Casey answered back, and when she did, his eyes opened, and they locked gazes. 

He nodded.

"Are you homesick?"

Without skipping a beat, his hand reached up, and his fingers trailed across her cheek, resting when they reached the spot where her hair met her neck. This time, he didn't lie. 

"Extremely."

When they kissed, Casey could barely compute what was happening. Her brain was malfunctioning. There was no way on Earth she was actually kissing Derek. She hated him. She had hated him since the first time she called him 'Ralph'. 

But his lips were soft. His touch was inviting, and she felt like she was coming home...

It lasted barely longer than five seconds, and when he pulled away, her body was frozen. She was as stiff as a board, and she couldn't bear to look at him. Not yet. Not until she could process what had just happened. 

"Casey..." He breathed, and their foreheads met, and the simple touch snapped Casey into reality. His fingers were restless against her, but she didn't protest when he dug them into her hair.

"Derek," she responded, and let out a long breath, mingling with his own. She opened her eyes to find that his own were still closed. She looked down, and his father's ring was hanging loose against his chest, and her hand slowly crept up his torso. She could feel the contours of his body under his thin t-shirt, and her hand faltered when it came to his chest, and she placed her fingers tentatively over the ring, and stroked it. "Do you miss your mom?" she breathed, and she could feel his head nod against her own. 

"Every day." He opened his eyes, looking down at her torso, in front of him. "Do you miss your dad?"

She blinked a few times. "Not as much as I used to."

Their foreheads were still making contact, and even though she couldn't see his face very well, she could tell he was trying to look into her eyes. 

"I used to cry every night," she explained, her hand still softly playing with the ring against his chest. "I missed him. But... I didn't miss the fighting. I was glad the fighting was over." Her voice abruptly faltered. She wanted to tell him that she loved her father more than anything, but her mouth turned dry, and she couldn't seem to make any noise. 

He just nodded. "My parents fought every night leading up to their separation." He moved his hand from her arm, and it slid against her waist, and held her close to him. She inhaled sharply as their hips made contact, and she realized the contact felt good. Too good. With his other hand, he placed it over her own, against his chest, and held on to her. She frowned at the loss of his fingers through her hair, holding her head close to his, but the feeling of his hand laced against hers was infinitely more intimate. "I had to protect Marti. She slept in my room every night for two years straight."

Casey's breath hitched. She had never known that. She couldn't believe they had never talked about any of this with each other before. 

But she understood why. It came with sudden clarity. It was an experience they both shared - family trauma. No matter how different they were, they were broken in the same way. Neither of them had wanted to admit they were the same, and it was finally releasing to get it out in the open. It was opening something more between them - a place in their hearts that they hadn't been ready to explore before.

"At first," Casey added, reciprocating his touch by lifting her other arm, and placing her hand on his shoulder. "At first, we used to spend every weekend with my dad." She felt a tear drop from her cheek and it landed on Derek's hand. He reached up absently and wiped her cheek, tenderly, and then it stayed there, catching her tears beginning to stream. "Until he had an affair with a coworker. It wouldn't have mattered that much if my parents had been divorced yet. But it happened a month after their separation... I was shattered when I found out, because they had stopped fighting, and I had thought they were getting back together. I never realized that my dad had slept with another woman while still married to my mom, and when I found out, I hated him for months."

Derek sighed. "I'm so sorry."

Casey shook her head. "I'm glad it all happened the way it happened," she admitted. "If he hadn't cheated on my mom, then she never would have met your dad when she did... And that was the best thing to happen. To any of us."

Derek let out a burst of air that Casey translated into a chuckle. "It really was."

For some reason, her fingers went numb against his chest, and her hand felt very heavy. 

What were they doing? 

She hadn't planned for this to happen. When she came over, she hadn't expected to have been consoled by Derek in this way - with intimacy. 

Her body tensed, and Derek lifted his head, and it left her feeling cold as he leaned back a little bit to gauge her expression. 

"What's wrong?" He asked, obviously confused at her sudden change. 

She wanted to pull away from him. "What are we doing?"

She could see his heart nearly fall. The way his shoulders slumped, the way his eyes widened minisculely... He didn't want it to stop. 

"We... We just kissed, Derek."

He nodded, and his eyes shifted in a half-hearted roll, though he didn't seem committed to it. "Yeah. I was there. I know we did." How could he stay so calm? 

"How?"

He stared at her. "How 'what'?"

And she stepped away. Her entire body ached and she shivered without his hand around her, without his body against hers. "How did it turn into kissing? I just came here to feel less homesick."

He tried to step toward her again, but she flinched away. 

"It worked, didn't it?" he questioned, sliding his hands into his front pockets. "You're not homesick anymore."

She blinked. "I'm... I'm not," she realized, and that troubled her. "Why am I not?" she said in a fluster, turning a pointed hand at him in accusation.

He shrugged. "You just needed it as much as I did."

The statement was so curt, it took her by surprise. Her body released the rising tension, and she bit her bottom lip. He was right. She _had_ needed it. She had needed Derek, and not just as a brother. His touch - his kiss - made her feel so at home. She had felt safe in his arms, and she had spilled her emotional baggage all over him. 

What did this mean?

"I did need it."

He inhaled. "Will you ever need it again?"

She froze. Would she? "Maybe. No. I mean... I don't know."

He tried to hide it, but she saw a smirk crawl across his lips for a moment before his face grew steely again. "Okay."

And she went over to his door, and laid her hand on the knob. She didn't turn it right away. It was cold, and heavy, and as she tried to grasp it, her hand didn't have the strength to twist it, like the blood had retreated completely from her limb. She took it as a sign. 

Turning around, she kept her hand on the handle, but looked at Derek. "Can... Can I..." Her voice completely died. 

He raised an eyebrow. "Can you what?"

She shook her head. No. She wouldn't need him again. She wouldn't need his touch, his words, his kiss. She wouldn't need him, because she knew if she went down that road, there would be no going back.

"Goodnight," she said quickly, ignoring the question he had just asked and forced her hand to pull open the door, even though her muscles were burning with tension.

She ran out of his dorm as quickly as she could, not stopping when she heard him call out to her.

........

The next few days, she walked around in a daze. Her mind kept wandering back to Derek's place, and she found herself playing the night over in her head on repeat. Every time she closed her eyes, every time there was a lull in conversation, she was with Derek again - his arms around her, kissing her, holding her, telling secrets.

It was ludicrous. There was no way it actually happened. It had to have been some sort of fever dream. She had to have been dreaming. That was the only clear explanation.

Her heart jumped when she was at the library, three days after the kiss, and when she looked out the window, she saw him walking in the quad. He looked so... normal. Normal Derek, languidly walking across the grass. It was like him to do that, instead of use the perfectly good sidewalk beside him and kill the growth.

She stayed at the window, watching him.

He still wore that damn leather jacket that she absolutely loved on him, and she could see his necklace poking out between his headphones hanging around his neck. He was obviously heading to class, because he had a book in his hand.

She swore silently as her stomach released butterflies, because she found the sight oddly enchanting. Derek with a book. In university. Heading to class without anyone holding a fire under his butt to get moving.

And she got angry. She was angry as she watched him round the corner out of sight, because he was the reason she was feeling so distraught. How could he go about his life, act so mature, while she was slipping into an immature train of disgusting thought about her step brother? 

She checked out an armful of books for herself, and headed straight back to her dorm, dropping them on her bed with a lot of force. It bugged her that she was having these feelings for him. If she had only listened to herself and stayed away from him in the first place, none of this would have happened.

But she just _had_ to go and ruin it. She _had_ to see him, and she _had_ to agree to kiss him.

There was no way she was going back over there. Not in her life was she going to fall for all his stupid mind-tricks. Because that's what it was - it _had_ to be. It was a trick he was playing on her - getting her to let her guard down and embarrass her. She wasn't falling for it. Not anymore. There were other solutions to homesickness, and she knew none of them had to involve kissing her step brother. No, she could deal with it on her own. She didn't need him.

That evening, she called home and stayed on the phone for hours. She didn't care how much her phone bill was going to be. She needed to hear some familiar voices that _didn't_ belong to one sloppily-dressed, conniving idiot.

And it felt good. She talked to Lizzie endlessly, and even had some good conversation with Edwin and Marti. She wanted to talk to her mom, but she was at the doctor's office getting a check up. Her mom was due to give birth in a few months, so the check-ups were getting more frequent.

Casey felt good after that phone call. She smiled to herself as she hung up, feeling triumphant.

She didn't need Derek, after all.

........

She didn't mean to notice him. It wasn't like she was looking out for him just in case he was nearby, or anything. It just so happened that she saw him in line at Timmie's and she couldn't tell her friend, Hannah, that she all of a sudden didn't want a steeped tea. It was the whole reason they had left their dorms in the first place, and it would look a little weird if she just backed out now.

He was a few people ahead of her in line, and she did her best to avoid looking forward, averting her gaze, otherwise her eyes would be glued to him. She tried to stay focused on what Hannah was saying to her - something about their paper coming up in class - but all she could focus on was Derek. He was ordering, and she couldn't help but notice his order was the same as when they were in high school: medium double-double and a box of ten timbits.

Ugh, he still liked those over-baked, overly-sweet, poor excuses for donuts.

But it was endearing.

She looked at him momentarily, and just her luck, he turned around, and like he already knew she was there, his eyes locked onto her. He didn't say a thing. He just smirked at her, and went to the pick-up area, leaning against the counter, waiting for his order.

She could kill him. She could march right over there and stab him in the heart for being so nonchalant. The kiss they had shared _had_ to be bothering him as much as it was bothering her, but he was acting like she was any other customer, like he didn't know her at all.

And as she ordered her tea, and went to wait for it, she brushed past him and pretended, too. She pretended she wasn't looking down at his chest and remembering the secrets he had told her about that stupid ring hanging around his stupid neck.

And, by the way, how can a neck look so attractive? It's just a neck.

But he didn't let her glance go unnoticed. "You know about it. You don't have to keep staring at it," he whispered, but didn't look at her.

Her heart quickened, because he knew her too well. He knew she was beating herself up about what happened, and he was toying with her.

"I can still look, can't I?" she retorted, and he shrugged.

"Care to change your answer?" he asked, and she scrunched her nose in confusion.

"Excuse me?"

"You know. About finding me attractive."

She couldn't believe he brought it back up, in the middle of a coffee shop. Angrily, she let her eyes dart up to his face and scowled. "No. I don't, thank you very much."

And just like that, his number was called, and he grabbed his coffee and timbits off the counter and sauntered out of the establishment, leaving her upset and dumbfounded.

Hannah stepped beside her and looked at her, strangely. "Who was that?" she asked, staring at Casey's angry expression.

Casey huffed and gritted her teeth. "Just someone from back home."

........

She called Emily the same night, needing some sound advice - advice from someone who could look at the situation (somewhat) unbiased. That was a lie. Emily was totally biased, but Casey just needed to let _someone_ know what had transpired.

"You did _what_ , now?" Emily asked, and Casey could hear the shock and surprise in her friend's voice.

Casey face-palmed. Maybe it hadn't been a good idea bringing this up to Emily. "I went over to his place because I was feeling homesick."

"Tell me how that led to a kiss again," Emily requested, for clarification.

Casey banged her head against her wall, not caring that the sensation hurt and would probably leave a bruise. "I don't know. It just happened. We were talking, and he told me about his stupid necklace, and then we kissed."

"Whoa, you got him to tell you about the necklace?"

"Yes."

"Spill! What is it?"

Casey didn't know if it would be betraying his trust to let Emily in on it, but she had already told her about the kiss. "The ring on it was George's. From his first marriage."

"Oh."

The line went silent, and Casey held her breath, waiting for Emily to respond with something better than a monosyllable breath. "Em?"

"Well, it makes sense." Emily finally responded. "He's more sensitive than he lets on." Casey knew she was right. "But I'm still confused. Why did you kiss him?"

Casey wanted to scream. " _I_ didn't kiss _him_."

"He kissed you?"

"No."

"Okay, so neither of you kissed each other. That makes _total_ sense."

Casey wanted to hang up and throw something. "No. It kind of just happened. I didn't kiss first, but neither did he.... we were just kind of standing there-"

"His arms were around you?"

"Yes, but Em, let me finish."

"Sorry."

"We were just standing there, not kissing, and then suddenly, we were kissing. All of a sudden. Bam. And then we started talking."

"About what?"

Casey hesitated. That conversation had been so private, so full of emotion. Emily didn't need to know. Sure, nothing terrible had been said, but it was something special Casey had shared with Derek, and she wanted to keep it that way. "Things."

Emily took a long time to reply. When she did, she sounded a little skeptical. "Do you like him?"

Casey held her breath. "No. Of course I don't." She didn't like him at all, and she never had, and she never would. It was an impossibitly. "Don't be silly."

She could hear Emily sigh on the other end. "It's okay if you do, Casey."

"No, it's not!"

"He's your step brother. You guys were practically adults when your parents got married."

"No we weren't. Fifteen is not adulthood. Eighteen is barely adulthood."

"It's not a kid, either. You were both well into acceptable dating years," Emily defended. How come she was being so relaxed about it?

"But I can't, Em. It's not right. And besides, he's your ex-boyfriend, and I don't want you to feel weird."

"I wouldn't feel weird. I told you. I'm over him. Dating him was... it wasn't right. We both knew it. His heart has always been somewhere else, and it always will be. He never liked me how he likes..."

Casey waited for her to finish. "How he likes Sally?" she offered, but knew her friend was insinuating another person - someone Casey was ready to deny profusely if ever uttered explicitly.

Emily chuckled. "Sure."

"I wish you were here," Casey whined, falling backward onto her bed. "Everything would be easier. I wouldn't feel so homesick, and this Derek thing wouldn't bother me as much."

Casey couldn't see Emily, but she knew she was nodding. "A 'Derek thing', huh?" she giggled, and Casey wished she had phrased it differently.

She burried her face in her pillow from embarrassment. " _Em_ ," she complained.

But she only laughed some more. "Sorry. But it's cute."

"You're a terrible friend."

"Thanks." Emily paused, and her voice dropped it's enthusiasm. "I wish I were there, too."

As it turned out, calling Emily had the opposite effect to curing Casey's homesickness than she had hoped for. She thought once they hung up, she'd feel immensely better, but it couldn't be further from the truth. Because Emily had only confused her even more by telling her it was okay if she liked Derek.

She flicked off her light and went to bed early that night.

Maybe sleeping would be the best cure for everything she was feeling.

........

"I brought cake," Derek said immediately when Casey opened her door.

Casey stood motionless, not understanding why exactly he was there - at her dorm, at nine o'clock, holding a transparent clamshell with one, big, slice of carrot cake sitting in it. 'One big slice', as in nearly half of a full eight-inch cake.

It surprised her even more when Derek took a step forward and entered her dorm without her invitation, and slid off his jacket.

"Hey!" Casey berated, and picked up his jacket off her floor where it landed. "What are you doing here?" she asked, throwing his jacket back in his face, and trying to make it obvious he wasn't wanted.

He sighed and ripped his jacket from his eyesight and held out the cake to her. "Cake," he repeated, like she was ludicrous for denying his presence.

She stared at the offering, and then up at him, suspiciously. "Why?"

"I was at a party. I saw cake. I took cake." He tried to hand it over. "I'm giving cake to Casey."

But she stepped back and crossed her arms, shaking her head. "Why are you _here_?"

He groaned. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, completely changing the subject.

"Doing what?"

"Acting all... weird and angry." When Casey didn't take the container from him, he slid it onto her desk, on top of her laptop keyboard, where she had moments before been working on a research paper.

"I'm not angry."

"Well, why have you been so hostile ever since...?" he asked, his arms crossing over his chest. She knew what he meant. _Ever since the kiss._

She bit her lip. Why _was_ she so hostile? She knew exactly why, and it had everything to do with being alone with him and that stupid necklace she couldn't take her eyes off of. There it was, menacingly present, _all the time_. And it had a tendency to lead her into dangerous territory when it came to Derek.

"I'm not in the mood to fight right now," she sighed, defeated. "Thanks for the cake." She made a move toward her desk and looked down at it.

Derek didn't budge when she slid into her desk.

"You can go now," she stated plainly, not looking back at him.

When she heard him move, her shoulders tightened because he didn't move toward the door. He stepped toward her. "Can I hang for a while?" he gently asked, and all of a sudden, Casey's palms began sweating, and her head began sweating. This was the last thing she needed - hanging out with Derek while she was at such an emotional dilemma.

She tried her best to stay calm. He was practically asking for her to respond tenderly, but she couldn't let that happen. Last time she had gone over to his place to "hang out", it had gotten them into a messy predicament, and she didn't want that with him.

"Um," she managed to get out, still frozen in place.

"Do you mind?" he asked, but she didn't respond.

Her brain was practically screaming to "Kick Him Out Before Things Start Happening!" but her heart was beating so loudly that she couldn't even hear it.

So she shrugged and said, "I guess."

There was no way she was getting any more work done that night, so she closed her laptop and popped open the clamshell. "Carrot cake," she said as Derek sat down on the edge of her bed, and looked at her.

"Yeah."

"You hate carrot cake," she reminded him.

He shrugged. "But you don't."

As if she wasn't already falling for him, her heart wrenched painfully in her chest because it was very sweet of him to bring it to her. He intentionally remembered she liked it.

"Finally something I can eat in front of you and you won't steal," she said triumphantly, and grabbed a fork from a drawer in her desk.

He smirked. "I didn't say anything about cream cheese icing, though," he countered, and to prove his point, he dragged his finger through the icing, collecting it, and then brought it satisfyingly to his mouth.

She scowled at him. "Ugh! You're such a pig!"

But he ignored her and did it again.

She knew it was a useless battle. At least if he was irritating her, she wouldn't have the urge to... indulge in _intimacy_. 

"Tell me more about your dad," Derek said with a mouthful of icing, like it was the most normal thing for them to talk about together. 

She paused mid-chew, because she knew last time they talked about her father, they had also done some other things she had regretted. 

"Why?"

"I wanna know why you're so messed up." At least he had the decency to be a jerk about it.

She glanced down at his chest where his necklace was propped. "I don't feel like talking about him," she decided. Translation: she didn't feel like letting her guard down.

Derek shrugged. "Okay, fine. I mean, we either talk about you and your daddy issues, or we talk about the kiss," he demanded, and stared at her so intently, she had a hard time looking away. "Your choice."

She frowned. "My dad," she decided, and he grinned triumphantly. 

He started. "Why didn't you go to New York?"

She squinted. "What does that have to do with my dad?" she retorted, not really following his train of thought. 

He shrugged, and took another finger-full of icing. It briefly crossed her mind how odd it was that she wasn't offended by his double-dipping, and she scrunched her nose. 

"If you had taken that dancing job in New York, like we all expected you to do, you could have lived with Dennis." 

She frowned. 

"So why didn't you want to do that? It's not like you haven't talked about dreaming to live closer to him, to have some perfect daddy-daughter relationship with him where he buys you dresses and fends off boyfriends with a shot gun." He said it so casually, it troubled her to actually agree with him. 

And it troubled her even more that the thought hadn't even occurred to her when making her decision to go to college instead. She would have ached to live with her dad if she had even realized that was an option. 

But no. She hadn't thought about him - the most important man in her life. The man who _should_ have been the most important in her life. But like every other relationship she had with a man or a boy, there was always another one who seemed to take precedence.

It all came back to Derek. Derek and his necklace. Derek and his smile. Derek and his kiss. 

"I didn't want to go to New York because I want to be a doctor," she defended. "It doesn't matter that I could have lived with my dad. My scholarship was here, and I'm in a great Pre-Med program."

He shook his head, not believing her for one second. 

But she didn't let him get a single word in. "And why didn't you go to Spain? Huh? You could have lived absolutely worry-free for a year in a warm climate with Latin women all around."

He inhaled. "Yeah, I've realized I don't really go for the Latin women, though," he shrugged. "Not really my type."

She rolled her eyes. "I thought your 'type' was anything in a skirt."

He only smirked. "Rookie mistake. You see, Case, I have a very specific, _detailed_ 'type'." His eyebrows danced upward, daring her to question him. 

It scared her, though. She didn't think she wanted to know what his type was, because she had a funny feeling it would be something oddly familiar. _  
_

_Detailed_. 

"So you see, Casey, you and I aren't that different."

"What do you mean?"

He leaned back against her pillows and propped up against his elbow. "We both gave up life-changing opportunities for something even bigger."

She didn't like the sound of that. Mostly because her head started spinning, and his words echoed off of her walls, pounding in her ears. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," she denied, and shoved a big bite of cake into her mouth, avoiding the conversation. 

He stared at her seriously as he stayed deathly still. "I bet you don't."

She couldn't believe she ate all of the cake in one sitting, but between the nerves of engaging in conversation with Derek, and his far-from-familial gaze he was giving her, she needed to prolong her inability to speak for as long as possible. 

She didn't quite know if she was avoiding him anymore, or if she was just scared of what would come later. 

When she licked up every last molecule of carrot cake, and found that there was no other reason to stall, she awkwardly snapped the clamshell shut, and got up from her desk, tossing it in the garbage across the room. 

As she turned back around, she found Derek sitting up, staring her down with a smug smile, because he knew, too. He knew she was just stalling for more time, and her time was up.

"Case-"

"I gotta pee," she interjected, and ran out of her room as quickly as possible before he could utter another syllable. She didn't even care she was just in her socks. She needed to get out of there - away from Derek - for a few minutes to figure out what she was going to say to him. How was she going to let him down? Because obviously she was going to reject him. She had no choice.

He was family, and she was scared, and he was way too cocky for his own good. 

She jogged past her bathroom that she shared with two other girls on her floor and booked it to the staircase. She ran down two flights before she made it outside, and then dug her cellphone out of her pocket, fumbling with the buttons, messing up the number she was dialling four times before she got it right. 

She wanted to cry from comfort when she heard a confused "Hello?" on the other end. 

She felt relieved hearing his voice and she took a seat on a bench below a tree. "You have to help me. He's in my room right now. And I finished eating all the cake, and he thinks I'm at the bathroom right now and he's waiting to talk to me, and I don't know what to say or do-"

"Wait... Casey McDonald?"

She huffed in annoyance. "Keep up, Paul."

"How did you get my cell number?"

Her shoulders lifted in embarrassment, even though he couldn't see her. "I kind of maybe had Tinker steal the staff contact list for me before graduation." Her voice raised an octave in apprehension.

The line went silent, and Casey panicked when she thought he had hung up on her. 

"Paul? Are you there?" She worriedly said, and sighed in relief when he replied. 

"Yes. You know, you really overstepped some boundaries-"

"I know! I'm sorry! But I needed your number. In case this happened. I really need help, and I need to talk to you."

He laughed, and Casey felt a wave of relief. "It's okay. You could have just asked for a number to contact me. Instead of stealing it."

"Oh."

"So what's this all about?"

Casey took the biggest breath she could, as if the extra oxygen might help her confess. She closed her eyes. "Derek."

She could literally picture Paul's goofy face as he was trying to hide his growing amusement. She could see him leaning forward in his desk, bringing a hand to his face and covering his smile before getting a hold of himself and returning to his not-so-serious demeanour. 

"I'm shocked," he said, finally, laced with sarcasm.

She scrunched her eyebrows. "You are?"

"Not at all. I just thought... Never mind. What did he do this time?"

Squirming, she tapped her foot, and gripped onto the edge of the bench to steady herself. "I... I went over to his place a while ago," she started. "Because I was homesick, you know? And I wanted some company. And we started talking, and we talked about some personal things, like his parents', and my parents' divorce, and then..." She paused, suddenly chickening out. What would Paul think of her? He knew her. He knew how much she hated Derek, and he knew they were step siblings.

"Go on," he prodded. 

"Um, well, maybe it's not as important as I thought," she muttered, ready to hang up, but her whole body froze when Paul hurriedly said, 

"He kissed you, didn't he?"

What? How could he have known that? There was no way he could have randomly guessed that. 

Casey could barely breathe. "What? How did you...?"

And she could hear him chuckle. "Did you kiss him back?"

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "How come you think we kissed?"

All of a sudden, Paul went silent, and she had to make sure he didn't actually hang up.

"Paul?"

"Shit," he breathed, and Casey flinched at hearing her dear, trusted counsellor swear for the first time. "Sorry, excuse my language. I just thought because you called so suddenly, late at night, and you were freaking out, it finally happened."

" _Finally_ happened?" What did he even mean?

"Pretend I didn't say anything."

Casey shook her head. "No, Paul. That's _exactly_ what happened. We kissed, but how did you know?"

And she nearly cringed when he merely said, "I've been waiting four years for one of you to give in, Casey."

"Four years?" 

"I always thought it was going to happen while you were still at SJST, though."

She was getting upset, now. "Okay, can we clarify something?" she asked, peeved.

"What would that be?"

"Why have you been waiting for us to kiss? What made you think we would?"

He heard him sigh audibly. "Casey, I spent a lot of time with you. Every week - sometimes even twice a week - for four years. I spent time listening to you and getting to know you. And I got to know Derek, too."

"That doesn't explain anything."

"I saw what both of you kept denying. Face it, Casey. We both know all those counselling sessions had more to do with your repressed feelings toward Derek, not just your anger."

"Repressed feelings?" She stuttered. 

"The only reason I'm even saying this to you is because you're not a pupil of mine anymore. You're an adult now, and so is Derek. You need to get over yourselves and do something about it."

She swallowed. He was right, and that killed her. " _What_ am I supposed to do?"

"You said he's waiting for you in your room?" Paul asked. "Is he there to talk? Or something else?"

She couldn't believe she was talking about this with him. Her whole relationship with Paul had been professional, and now he was talking more as a concerned friend than her guidance counsellor.

"Uh, he told me we either talk about my dad, or we talk about, uh, the kiss."

"So he means business."

She nodded, and then realized he couldn't see her. "Yes."

"I suggest you go talk about the kiss."

"But Paul! What do I say? What do I do? What if he kisses me again?"

"Kiss back."

Her stomach fluttered, and she groaned at the feeling. "That's not the advice I called you for."

"It's the advice I'm giving."

She thought methodically for a response. "It's not weird that he's my step brother?"

Paul laughed. "Not in my books."

"What about the Law's books?"

He laughed. "Don't tell me you haven't looked into it yourself."

She bit her lip, caught red handed. "Uh, yeah, I have."

And that kind of solidified it for her. She had. She had looked up whether or not it was illegal to marry your stepsibling, and that was all it took for her to realize. It hit her almost like the bigest tidal wave known to man, but at the same time, it was like a small lap of water against her toes. 

Casey McDonald was in love. 

........

"That was a long trip to _relieve yourself_ ," Derek said as she entered her dorm again, closing the door behind her. She caught onto his methodic word choice.

She nodded, and tossed her phone on her bed. Derek looked at it and lifted an eyebrow. 

"I wasn't at the bathroom. I called Paul," she admitted. 

He nodded, and pushed his hands into his pockets in understanding. He didn't make a move toward her, and she was thankful. 

"What did you tell him?"

She shrugged, trying to act cool. "I told him about our kiss."

She tried to read his expression. "Oh?"

And she laughed. "He said he's been waiting four years for it."

Derek's eyebrows lifted. "What?"

She nodded. "He doesn't think it's weird."

And Derek nodded, too. "Do you?"

Inhaling sharply, Casey kicked the ground awkwardly and shrugged. "I don't think so."

He finally took a step toward her. "Just so you know, I'm in the same boat as Paul."

Her eyes snapped toward him. "What?"

"Waiting. I've been waiting four years for it, too."

Was she hearing him correctly? 

"You have?"

He rolled his eyes. "'Same difference', 'yeah right'?" he reminded, and she saw the exact same look in his eyes that she saw many months ago in him at the kitchen island. "It's not the same difference, Case."

She swallowed. "I know."

She hadn't realized they had been inching toward each other with each word, but suddenly he was right in front of her, barely a foot away. "Can I tell you a secret?" She breathed. 

He nodded. "Yeah."

"I looked it up, you know," she admitted. 

"You looked what up?"

She stared at him. " _Same difference_."

And he smirked. "You did?"

She nodded. "Now you owe me a secret."

His smirk turned into a smile. "I looked it up, too."

How could she have thought anything different? 

He kissed her, and at first she froze under his passion. It was different than their first kiss, and she was ready to freak out again, but she heard Paul, like a mantra in her head.

_Kiss back._

So that's what she did.

........

Casey stopped in front of Derek's room. It was the first time he had invited her over. And he hadn't invited her over as a friend, or as a sister. He had invited her over as _Casey_ _McDonald_. Plain and simple.

And he was _Derek Venturi_.

She hesitated before knocking on his door. Was she actually ready? Ready for everything that had been building inside of her - inside of _him_ \- for the past four years to finally be _released_? She was a fool to think that nothing would happen tonight. He had made it clear when he met her - more accurately, _found her_ \- in the library that afternoon, that he wanted to tell her more secrets.

It's just, she had never told anyone this particular secret before.

She bit her lip, and leaned against the wall for a few minutes, pondering whether or not she should let go of all of her doubts and fears. This was _Derek_. Derek, who hopelessly irritated her until she'd go mental; Derek, who teased her until she lost control; Derek, who kissed her, and told her secrets.

And she sighed.

Because she was Casey, who let him. It was true: she let him do all those things to her, because she craved his attention. She needed his affection, no matter what form it was delivered. It just so happened that he wanted to deliver it in a different way, now.

Sure, she was scared, but also relieved. Relived that she didn't have to tip-toe around her heart, making sure it never pounded too loudly.

So she knocked.

The door opened after a long moment of insecurity, and they were face-to-face.

"Hey," he breathed.

"Hey," she breathed back.

He stepped to the side to give her entry, and she shuffled in past him, and closed her eyes tight when she heard the door shut behind. Her heart was beating so forcefully, she honestly thought it would burst (but she was currently taking biology, and knew she was probably safe).

"Let me take that for you," he offered, and fingered the strap of her duffel bag as she slid it off her shoulder. She was absolutely silent as he made a space for it at the foot of his bed.

This was all so surreal.

She glanced around the room, and took notice of the little things - little changes she had noticed since the last time she had been there. His bed was fully made, and his desk had been tidied. She even noticed he had taken down a few objectionable posters that had (somehow) come back from the grave (i.e. he had never thrown them out four years ago when she had created her manifesto).

Maybe he was changing. Maybe he _wanted_ to change. For her.

The thought made her heart flutter, and all of a sudden, her nervousness began to lessen.

She had called Emily that afternoon, asking for advice. Her friend had, surprisingly, been very cool about it.

_"Take it slow," she had said. "But Derek will probably know that."_

_"Okay," Casey answered, and wrote it down in her notebook. Of course she was taking notes. She needed to remember this stuff.  
_

_"He knows it's your first time?"_

_Casey groaned inwardly. This was so awkward for her: discussing sex with Emily - her best friend and Derek's ex. But she needed to talk this out, and she couldn't very well call up her mother and give her a heart attack like that. Not without being present, with a bottle full of aspirin at the ready.  
_

_"I haven't told him expressly. But I'm pretty sure he knows."_

_"You need to let him know before hand. It will be better. For the both of you."_

_God, Casey wanted to scream. Her insides were so uncomfortable. Maybe she wasn't willing to accept his invitation. Maybe she just needed more time of... whatever the hell was happening between them.  
_

_But then again, it had been two weeks since they had first kissed in Derek's dorm, and there had been many, many more kisses since then. But they had generally stayed rather tame, and he usually came over to her place, where she had every right to kick him out whenever she began feeling uncomfortable, or felt like it was moving too quickly.  
_

_"Do I have to do anything before?"_

_Emily laughed. "Like what?"_

_Casey scrunched her nose. "I don't know. I have no clue what I'm doing. Like, can I do something that will make it... more comfortable?"_

_Casey wanted to bury herself alive at the sound of Emily's mocking laughter. "No, Case. You'll be fine. Take it slow, and I'm sure Derek has all the experience he needs to make it the best."_

_That's when Casey's voice caught. "Wait. Did you and he ever-"_

_"No," Emily interrupted. "We weren't dating long enough."_

_"Oh." There was a long pause before Casey added, "I'm scared it will hurt."_

_She waited for Emily to reply. "I'm not gonna lie, Casey. It can."_

_That's it. There was no way she was following through with this. She was about to express her eternal virginity, but Emily spoke up again before she could.  
_

_"But if there's enough foreplay, and you don't rush, it's beautiful." She sighed. "It's normal to feel discomfort. But if you feel a lot of pain, you just get up and punch him one good, right in the balls. You go your pace, not his."  
_

_At least Casey could laugh at_ that _. "Okay."_

_"And stay the night."_

_"What?"_

_Casey could hear Emily smile. "Trust me on this. After your first time, stay the night. Something happens, and I can't really explain it. But you'll thank me."_

_Casey's pen hurriedly jotted that down. "Okay," she muttered again.  
_

_"And bring something to do."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_Emily's voice wavered a bit. "Like a movie, or a game, or something. Just... something to distract yourself if it's not going the right way. Something you can do to reset the mood. Act goofy together, and it will help you both loosen up. Trust me, it works."_

_Casey nodded. This list was getting long. "Got it." She clicked her pen closed. "What kind of game?"_

_That's when Emily's voice changed, and Casey could tell she was getting fed up. "God, Casey, stop overthinking it. Just go over there and let whatever happens, happen. You're going to do fine."_

"I brought Pictionary," Casey blurted, spinning around quickly, trying to ignore her burning fear.

And Derek's eyebrows knit together. "What?"

Nodding, Casey unzipped her bag, and pulled out a big, blue, vintage version of the game, and plopped it on the bed. "Pictionary."

He looked at her, shaking his head, both amused and confused. "Why...?"

She didn't want to admit she was feeling intimidated. So she shrugged, and kicked off her shoes, and tapped the bed lightly, pretending like she wasn't there to have her virginity taken. She was there to play games. If something else happened... then it happened. Simple as that.

He slid onto the bed beside her, and Casey slid far away, positioning the box between them. "Wanna play?"

After careful consideration, Derek, shrugged. "I guess."

And they played. And played. And played again, and again. It was four games later until Derek rubbed his eyes, and leaned completely backward onto his bed and groaned loudly. "Casey, my hand is getting tired, and you're literally scribbling now. I don't want to play again."

She only smiled brightly, and threw the dice again, and pulled out another page from her notebook, readying herself to draw "Pizza Sauce". She started the timer, but Derek didn't even bother to watch her pencil. His eyes were glued upward, examining her eyes.

"Hey, eyes on the page," she scolded, and showed him her very neanderthal drawing of tomatoes getting murdered.

So he obliged. "I don't know," he yawned.

"Come on," she berated, and drew lots of pizza slices, and arrows, and more tomatoes being thrown in a cauldron.

"I don't know."

"Guess!"

"Time is up," he said, annoyed, and held up the hourglass.

She frowned. "It was pizza sauce."

"Of course," Derek said, and rolled his eyes.

This wasn't going the way she wanted. He wasn't having fun, and neither was she, and as far as she could tell, he wasn't very turned on at the moment. God, she was ruining this night for both of them.

"Okay, let's do something else," she finally decided, and began packing up the game pieces.

Derek smiled, and helped fold up the scattering of loose pieces of paper they had ripped out of her notebook.

"Hey, what's this?" he questioned, as he was tucking the papers back into the book, and managed to turn to a page Casey had never meant for him to see. Ever. Never ever in a million years. Maybe one day when they were old and grey, when her fear of sex was just a long-lost memory.

"Nothing," she said, and tried snatching it back up, but his reflexes were too quick, and he jerked it away, and managed to stand up in one motion, bringing it up to his nose.

"Give it back!" she argued, and struggled to rip it out of his grip.

"Not so fast!" he said, and his motions stilled, realizing what he was reading. Casey watched as his entire face turned away from amusement, and adopted the same sense of fear that was overtaking her. "Who told you all this?" he questioned, and let her snag it from his hand, and close it tightly.

"Emily," she admitted, and shoved it in her duffel bag.

"You talked to Emily about...?" He pointedly motioned between the two of them, and then swallowed.

Casey shrugged. "I needed to tell someone."

"And you decided on Emily?"

Huffing, Casey put her hands on her hips. "Yes. Because I needed advice from someone with experience, and would you really rather have me asking my mother?" she said, her voice raising in irritation.

Derek's eyes widened, and he looked at the ground. "No way."

"Hence, Emily."

His eyebrows dropped, and his lips turned upward. "You could have always asked me."

"I needed a girl's advice."

But he only stepped closer, and when she turned away, he rested his chin against her shoulder. "I see."

Casey nodded, ignoring the shiver travelling down her spine. "Emily said playing a game can help us loosen up."

Derek let out an amused breath of air. "Trust me, Case. When it comes to you, I don't need to play a game to 'loosen up'," he explained, and his arms slowly slid around her waist, pressing his body close to hers. In a low voice, he added, "I also saw 'foreplay' on that list," and Casey's stomach started working in overtime again. She pulled herself away from him, and ran a hand through her hair.

"Want to play another game?" she asked, biting her lip, and looking at him expectantly. She hoped the fear in her eyes wasn't too evident.

His head leaned backward, and she saw something click in his eyes. His smug smirk melted away, and it was replaced with an endearing one - one that Casey had only seen on occasion.

"Tell me a secret?" he suggested, and she nodded quickly. After consideration, he asked, "Are you scared?" making sure his voice was soft.

She turned away and shrugged. "A little."

And he nodded. "You know, we don't have to do it tonight."

But she shook her head. "I want to."

"You're not acting like it."

And she sighed. "I'm scared it hurts."

And he chuckled. _Actually_ chuckled. Right at her insecurity, and she felt blood rush to her cheeks, and anger rise in her throat. "I'm serious!" she shouted, getting mad.

But he held up his hands quickly, in surrender. "No, no, I'm not making fun."

"It sure sounds like it, jerk."

He was scrambling for a ledge to hold on to, because Casey was just about ready to throw him off the cliff she was standing on.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh."

Her arms crossed over her chest.

He took a cautious step toward her, like he was in a mind-field, and any step could kill him. "I get that you're scared," he explained. "Believe me, I am, too."

And her eyes darted up to his. "You are?"

"Of course. I want you to like it as much as I do. That's a big order to fill."

She swallowed, and when she made eye contact with him, she smiled. She didn't say anything.

And he didn't, either. His eyes said it all.

He moved in slowly, and she adjusted her body against his. She felt her forehead rest against hers, as his hands held her hips, and slowly dragged toward her back. It was such an innocent motion, but Casey could really feel how foreplay could work wonders. She kissed him softly, and then pulled away to catch her breath.

Almost absently, her hand reached up to his chest, and wrapped around the ring on Derek's necklace. The thing had irritated her before, but now it was quite possibly one of her favourite things. She smiled at it, and tugged on it slightly, bringing his lips closer to hers.

He kissed her, but this time it wasn't so soft and gentle. His lips were moving effortlessly against hers, and she let her own lips respond. He was a good kisser, but she wasn't very surprised. She, on the other hand, had significantly less experience, so every time they kissed, she wondered if he thought she was any good at all. 

His hand ventured further down her body, and she gasped. "Oh!" she said, and he smiled against her lips.

It made him laugh, and he broke apart for a second, to catch himself. "Sorry."

But she pulled him back toward her. "No. Don't stop."

Examining her eyes, his gaze grew serious, and he exhaled slowly. "You sure?"

She nodded. It wasn't like he was just some regular, fleeting boyfriend that she was going to break up with in a year or two. She wasn't just some girl that he could dump the next day. 

They were bound together. They were bound by a black leather cord, and a silver wedding ring. 

"Yeah. I'm sure."

........

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> So there it is! I gotta admit, this went in about a million different directions, so the flow was not very... flow-y. :)
> 
> Wrote this while I'm getting over my writing slump with all my other WIPs. Hopefully I will update my other stories soon. No promises.


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